by Brit M.
Paul whispered in her ear first, “Relax. I think Adrian wants to play a bit, take it easy, figure out if you're likely to be into the same things as he is.”
“Yup,” Adrian muttered.
“What things are those?” she whispered, head filled with images of the bondage porn movie Lita had shown her. She could probably handle that. But what else would he show her, introduce her to? She didn't mind him being the first in as many things as he wanted to explore with her.
“You seem like a natural bottom,” he whispered into her ear, so close his mouth touched her skin. “You're a little timid, but you were turned on when I grabbed you in the restaurant and when we put you between us outside, right?”
“Right,” she agreed.
“So,” he whispered, “I want to see if you like being topped. Right here, right now. Say stop if you're uncomfortable.”
She gasped in a quick breath as he took her wrist in his hand and laid it firmly on the armrest between them, palm up. His fingertips pressed against her pulse. He did the same with her other hand, leaving her feeling exposed and open in an odd way, without her arms crossed over her midsection.
“Stay like that,” he said, low and in control.
Marissa closed her eyes, tipped her head back on the seat, and tried to hold her breath. A strange, hot tension was building in her, like a sweet slow burn. She wanted to be still. Wanted to let them show her things, teach her things, have her.
“Don't make a sound,” he whispered.
She wasn't sure what she expected, his hand up her skirt or something, but it wasn't. He didn't touch her for a moment. She sat paralyzed, her breath a struggle, arousal running in warm waves up and down her body. He was so right. She wanted it like this, to be told what to do and how.
Dizzily, she recalled she'd always had a thing for commanding older men in the form of professors. How—interesting.
To her surprised, it was Paul who touched her first, his fingers tracing the bare curve of her neck from her collarbone up to her ear. It felt like a line of fire, such a simple caress. His hand slid around to brace the back of her neck, massaging the tightness from her muscles with flexes of his fingers. She melted into the grip and barely held in a sigh, then nearly flinched away when a warm breath touched her ear on Adrian's side.
“Ssh,” he murmured to her. “Relax. Enjoy.”
He took her earlobe into his mouth with a small nibble, sending a shiver down her spin, and moved to kiss her throat. She locked her mouth shut against a groan as Paul rubbed her neck and Adrian's palm found her knee while he sucked at the tender pulse point on her throat. His thumb traced circles on her bare skin, teasing, while his fingers gripped the very, very edge of her thigh above her knee.
It felt like he was a puppet master pulling her strings, every touch sending jolts of sensation through her. Her breath had begun to stutter as he licked her collarbone and bit her gently there. She hadn't even thought of that spot as erotic, but his mouth burned her skin in the best way. Her nipples were tight against the silk of the bra she'd worn under the dress, aching to be touched.
The movie progressed without her attention while Adrian made love to her neck with his mouth, moving back up to bite at the muscle near the base. As his teeth dug in slightly harder she let out a tiny, helpless whimper. It hurt, but it didn't, and she had no idea it would feel like that. The slow heat had turned into something else entirely, a dull throbbing echo of pleasure down her whole body.
“Quiet,” Paul reminded her.
Marissa opened her eyes a slit to look at him, rolling her head to his side, and giving Adrian more room. He let out a snuffle of a laugh against her neck and ever so slowly released his grip. As the pressure lessened from his teeth sensation rushed back in. Her eyelids fluttered as he did, and she saw Paul's lips part, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
He was turned on watching Adrian do this to her, make her come apart. In so many of the pictures, he was physically dominating the smaller man, but she wondered now who was the “top”or if there really wasn't one in their relationship, and Adrian just took better pictures while being fucked.
The hand on her knee shifted and she moved to glance at Adrian, but Paul reached up and caught her chin with his other hand. He kept her turned toward him, stretched on the seat between their hands, her muscles corded with tension. She was nearly panting. His lips hovered over hers, his eyes open and glinting in the half-lit darkness as he watched. She couldn't lean forward any further to finish the kiss; she had to wait. She found that she wanted to wait.
“I want to watch your face,” he murmured.
Adrian didn't go under the skirt, as she expected. Instead he skipped over the hem and laid his hand along the curve of her hips, his fingers tucked into the crook of her thigh and the heat of her body. She rolled her hips, wishing for his fingers to move further, but he lifted his hand away.
“Bad shy-girl,” he whispered. “Don't move, don't make a noise. You need to listen better, don't you, honey?”
She was watching Paul's smirk as Adrian whispered to her. Her back bowed with a hard shudder at the hiss in his voice and a lance of pleasure seemed to pierce her belly. She almost moaned.
“God,” Paul whispered, bending to catch her mouth.
His tongue slid against hers, wet and so slick. His lips were soft and damp. She let a tiny groan out into his kiss, and realized her arms were still where they were supposed to be, palm up on the armrests. She'd never thought of moving them, and wouldn't now. Where was this going to go?
Adrian's fingers returned to the crook of her thigh, and he squeezed her gently, encouraging her to spread her legs. She did, letting Paul eat her small noises while Adrian rubbed his palm down the length of her thigh through silk.
“Do you want me to make you come?” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath tickling her. “Or stop?”
Marissa broke from the kiss and Paul let her go, easing her back into the seat.
Adrian pressed his thumb to her throat and she gulped, feeling the ache of a bruise under his touch. That was where he'd bitten her.
“What do you want?” she murmured back.
“Good answer,” he said.
She had a moment to be glad the theater was almost empty, because that sounded like sex. Paul's hand shifted to run down her chest, briefly brushing the pebbled hardness of one of her nipples. She gasped. He settled his fingers at the curve of her waist, pressing against her lower stomach.
“I think I want to make you wait,” Adrian murmured to her, rhythmically stroking her inner thigh, so close to where she needed him. “I'll think about you going home and running your fingers over your cunt, tweaking your clit, making yourself moan.”
He took her hand in his and moved it to himself, molding her fingers around the thickness of him, fully hard in his pants. She flexed her grip and he groaned, resting his forehead against her shoulder.
“And you'll do the same? You'll touch each other, while you think about this?” she said, panting.
“I think I'll fuck him tonight,” Adrian said. “I want to keep this mojo going.”
Paul purred into her ear, “I'll let him. He's so into this.”
“And I want you to think about it while you're coming,” Adrian finished.
He drew her hand away and she turned to Paul, taking his cheeks in her hands and drawing him into another kiss. Adrian stroked the line of her back where it was turned to him. Paul hummed a moan of pleasure into her mouth.
“I don't want to leave you out,” she murmured.
“I like to watch him work,” Paul murmured. “You didn't leave me out.”
“We'll have to figure out how to make sure everyone's getting enough attention,” Adrian said.
He reached around her, sandwiching her between their bodies as he stole Paul away. She watched from a millimeter away while they kissed each other hard, lips sliding together in passion. She whimpered again, watching so close, and they both looked at her at once.
They were both smiling wicked smiles.
“So,” Adrian said. “Next weekend? Friday through Sunday, maybe?”
“I can come over Friday night after my last class,” she whispered.
“Bring any toys you're going to want us to use on you, if you like,” Paul murmured. “We'll work it out from there.”
The film credits began to roll.
“We'll walk you to your car,” Paul said.
Marissa's legs shook when she stood, but Adrian looked shaky too, and Paul drew in a heavy breath. She wondered how loose their slacks were, and if Paul had been as aroused by the—game. That had been a dominance game. She'd just played submissive under their hands and loved it. That made her woozy all over again.
Would she like to be the dominant partner? She'd think about that later, but it was intriguing.
The lights of the lobby were harsh and bright; she thought they all looked like they'd been up to something. Or maybe that was just her. She found their hands and held one each as they walked out into the night. The sun had set while they were inside. It was hard to imagine that whole encounter had taken two hours—in her memory it was already a blur of erotic thrills.
They were silent as they walked to the cars, but it was comfortable, not awkward. At her car, Adrian's hand found her hip and he swept her into an embrace, the lengths of their bodies pressing together. He was still hard, she noticed as they kissed for real for the first time. She swooned against him, hands grasping his shoulders as his mouth possessed hers. She moaned at the slide of his tongue.
“My turn,” Paul murmured, pulling her away and spinning her into his arms.
The switch left her breathless and she went willing into the kiss, returning if with fervor. Her legs were truly weak and her skin tight with desire when they finally tucked her into her driver's seat. She rested her forehead on the wheel, knowing they were watching her recover and glad she could show them how they affected her.
One more week until she went further. All the way.
She glanced up to see them, and they waved goodbye. She returned the gesture.
Now she just had to manage to drive home.
* * * *
The apartment was dark and still when she let herself in. Her body still throbbed with unsatisfied need, lace underwear damp and sticking to her pussy with every step. How had simple making out turned her on so much?No—easy. It had been anything but simple. They'd kept her between them, teased her, stretched her limits, tested her pleasures. She walked into the bathroom and stripped the dress over her head in one movement. The love-bite on her neck, at the curve of her shoulder, was a vivid purple. She touched it and the resultant ache made her quiver.
Did it mean something about her that she wanted to be taken that way, maneuvered and ordered around? Or was it something she could enjoy, could take pleasure from? She thought it was all right to like it. So many other women did, after all, and men too if Paul's admission that he was going to have Adrian top him was any indication.
That image in her mind had her gripping the edge of her sink, pressing herself against the cool marble. She pictured Adrian pushing him down, holding onto the curly dark locks of his hair and guiding his mouth onto his cock, which she'd felt and wanted desperately to stroke.
Marissa stripped off the rest of her clothes and took out the pins in her hair. She could wait a little longer for her satisfaction, wait until she was rinsed clean and in her warm solitary bed, imagining them in theirs together. It would be quick, she already knew that. Maybe just the touch of her fingers to set her off, the lightest tap or tease.
The water was cool still when she stepped under it, but it warmed as she ran her fingers through her hair to work out the curls. A pleased sigh escaped her as she stretched under the spray and let it roll down her back. Her muscles were tight, almost too much so, though it was a well-earned tension. She hadn't realized how taut she was holding herself—and they were holding her—in the theater, until her lower back had begun to twinge on the drive home.
She did halfway wish they'd just gone to the park or somewhere secluded, because they certainly hadn't been watching the movie they paid for, but they probably thought she would have been uncomfortable going anywhere more private. The darkness of the theater seemed solitary, but if things had gone badly, there were other people around and a well-lit hall right outside. It was considerate of them, and she did appreciate that. Next time, though—
That brought her up short. There wouldn't really be a next date. Spending a weekend exploring mutual sexual gratification was not a date, and after that, she'd be back to her normal life again. Her horizons would be expanded, she'd have pleasant memories, and she could start settling down to look for a real date, someone she could be with. It was hard to reconcile that with how she'd felt around Adrian and Paul, though. They made her feel comfortable and eager for more with them, not just sex but other things.
And that, she knew, was dangerous, because they weren't in this for anything but a fun weekend to spice up their relationship. It was coincidence that they were the type to be considerate and interested in helping her discover some things, too.
As if the acknowledgement had drained energy from her, she realized how tired she was. Good stress was still stress, and she was ready to lie down. She turned off the shower and stepped out, rubbing a towel through her hair to dry it some before she went to bed. She'd have to take a real shower in the morning and wash it, but for now the crisp rinse left her feeling refreshed but ready to sleep. The edge of her desire had softened as well without constant stimulation, mental or otherwise.
She padded into the living room to check her e-mail one last time and found a small message from Paul: “Good night, and I hope you sleep well. We'll talk about next weekend later. Call us this week?”
She'd already programmed their home number into her phone. For the time being, though, she closed the laptop with a smile and made her way to her bedroom in the dark, cozy space of her apartment.
, and Adrian's heat and brazen attitude about his sexual allure saved him from being cute and transformed him instead into a shockingly handsome man. Paul was a sweetheart, despite his sultry stares and inherent wickedness, and his handsome features and stature left nothing to the imagination—he must have made girls swoon in school. He looked strong and capable, with an edge of dangerous desire.
The sheets were cool and silky, welcoming Marissa as she snuggled into them. Her hands found her breasts and she cupped them tenderly, thumbs rolling her soft nipples until they hardened. Her own fingers were daintier than either of theirs, but she closed her eyes and imagined them together as she'd seen them that night and in the photos. Adrian would roll the small buds of Paul's nipples between his fingers the same way, perhaps, or pinch—she did the same to herself and let out a pleased sigh as sharp sensation followed the pressure of her fingernails.
She was too tired to draw it out very long, and one hand slipped down to press against the soft heat of herself. She stroked two fingers between her folds and teased her clit with gentle pressure, back-and-forth movements of her fingertips. Another voluptuous sigh escaped as she arched her back and squeezed her breast again, the faintest ache rolling from the love-bite on her neck as she moved her shoulders. The climax was a slow and easy one, a roll of warm and delicious sensation that chased up her spine and down to her toes, relaxing her completely. She collapsed back onto to bed, sated, and shifted onto her side to cuddle one of the pillows.
It wasn't quite as good as her two soon-to-be lovers, but it would have to do for now. Pleasuring herself wasn't the same sharp immediacy of their touch, either. It was just the knowledge that they were thinking about her doing it that made it sweeter, more interesting. She suspected she'd spent more time getting acquainted with herself in the past week than she had since she was a teenager, between the porn and this.
But really, it was worthwhile. She didn't feel bad about it like she had when she was younger, less secure. It was her body and
she was allowed to make herself feel good. That thought bolstered her for the fact that she was going to spend the next weekend with two men, fucking in every way they could show her. She smiled, shivered a little, and huddled closer to her pillow.
She was a little nervous, but she still couldn't wait.
Chapter Five
Sunday had been an uneventful day around the apartment, spent cleaning and doing laundry, but Monday presented Marissa with an interesting dilemma. She stood in front of her mirror, tilting her head this way and that. Adrian's bruise, which had been sexy and thrilling to her in private, was decidedly an issue for work. It was too hot out still for a turtleneck sweater or anything like that. She only owned a few scarves and they were all winter weight, not flowy or cute enough to wear with her usual business-casual.
If it were only students, she might not have worried. Let them laugh, and all that. It was the fact that the handsome older auditor would probably be there, and he would probably considering coming to teach her class with a giant hickey unprofessional. The idea of him seeing it, wondering whom she'd gotten it from, made her turn bright red. She wasn't necessarily interested in him, not with Adrian and Paul on her plate and his position in her career, but he was still a nice-looking man and it embarrassed her to have him think about her like that.
Two steps forward and one step back, she supposed. There were still some things she was going to be too shy for, whether or not she made out with couples in movie theaters in public. Showing off Adrian's mark was one of those things—plus it seemed somehow too personal to share. He had left it there to give her something, and it was for her, not for everyone else.
She didn't care if that was a weird way of thinking about it, either. She just needed to find a scarf.
A quick call had Lita on the line. “Hey,” she said. “Do you have any gauzy scarves I could wear to work today?”
“Oh, really, now?” Lita said, sounding intrigued.
“I need to cover something.” Marissa said.
“What something?” she pressed.
